I've always found it sort of annoying how adults generally seem to believe that the childhoods they enjoyed were safer, cleaner, and more wholesome than the ones their kids are having. But there are some very specific elements of childhood from even 25 years ago that have changed a great deal.
This is the photo I ran across in an old photo album that got me thinking about this stuff this week.

This is a photo of my little brother, Robert, when he was about 15, so that would have made it 1987 or so. The photo was taken in his bedroom, in our house. In the photo, you see the usual (and still pretty much standard) accoutrements of a teenage boy's bedroom: books, globe, band posters, electronics (I'm digging the funky little black and white TV on the bookcase)...and guns.
Yes, there on the wall behind him, you see - GASP, THE HORROR! - two guns hanging on his wall. I think one was a rifle and one was a shotgun. Hanging below them is an antique powderhorn that he'd inherited from some familial male predecessor. But the guns were not antiques. They were not just for show. They were real guns, that really worked. They were my father's guns, although he rarely used them. And they hung unlocked in our house through my entire childhood. Occasionally my father would take one down to shoot at rabbits that got into our garden, and once we're pretty sure he took out an obnoxious colony of feral cats that had taken up residence in our barn, and had begun pouncing on us kids when we would try to eat our peanut butter sandwiches out in the yard (My father never did own up to shooting those cats. He took that secret to the grave.)
So the guns were just there. All the time. It was no big deal. They hung up high, much too high for us to reach them or touch them as young children. But after we hit middle school, they were just above a 12 year old's eye level. Within easy reach. And at some point in his teenagehood, Robert apparently asked if the family guns could be relocated to his bedroom, and my parents agreed. I do think that Robert took and passed a Hunter Safety course at some point during high school, because he thought about trying some hunting with friends. Even though the interest in hunting passed, the guns remained on his wall.
We kids never got the guns down just to mess with them, but no one would have freaked out if one of us had touched them as teenagers. Once, though, when I was in high school, I did get my brother to come out to the barn with one of the guns and shoot a snake sleeping in my horse's stall. Why we thought that SHOOTING the snake was the way to handle this dilemma is beyond me. But we did. And we told our parents about it when they got home from work that day. If memory serves, they just reminded us to always be careful if we ever used a gun. And then, back to household business-as-usual.
Yes, we did grow up on a farm for much of our youth. But as I recall, that really wasn't the determining factor in the likelihood of whether or not we would have had a gun in the house. While it's true that all of our rural neighbors with kids did have guns at home, I'd have to say that a fair number of my friends' parents who lived in nearby towns, cities and suburbs also had gun racks somewhere on the walls within their homes. And actually, the photo above, the one with the teenage boy in his bedroom with guns on the wall was taken after we moved away from the farm, and were living in a small, prep school village.
Yet...yet...despite the easy access to guns in our homes,none of us were shooting each other - accidentally or otherwise (obviously that statement is hyperbolic in nature, because there have always been and will always be tragic accidental shootings, as well as gun violence in homes. I'm just saying it wasn't a widespread, endemic community problem, certainly not relative to all the guns to which we teens had access.). And none of the parents I knew cared one whit whether the households of friends their kids visited had "guns in the home." It just wasn't something on the list of parental worries at that time. And remember, this was only 25 years ago. Not that long ago.
Nowadays, however, most parents - including me - would be incredibly freaked out if one of their child's friends had unlocked guns in the home, not to mention hanging on the wall of a child's bedroom (!!!). But why? I struggle with this question. On the one hand, I do believe adolescent males are biologically inclined toward impulsivity and unfocused aggression (I once wrote a blog post about this, following a local school shooting, about why teen boys and free access to guns are a bad mix. I titled the post - for dramatic effect - "Teenage Boys Are Stupid," and I was immediately besieged by hundreds and hundreds of commenters accusing me of hating all boys, and especially my own sons.) But on the other hand, teenage boys have lived for many generations in homes full of unlocked weapons, but we didn't assume that teens' developmental and age-related impulsive tendencies would necessarily lead todanger and tragedy.
So here is the question: what is different between my childhood, only 25 years ago, and the ones my kids have today that makes us so much more afraid of guns in particular? I don't know the answer to this question, but something HAS changed. Many more kids commit suicide today, often with guns. School shootings are real (and there are many near misses that don't make the news - where a student gets a gun into the school but then doesn't pull the shooting off for one reason or another.) And I am going to tell you right now that while I have allowed my sons to have some highly supervised exposure to real guns (and H has completed a Hunter Safety course, just because he was interested), I would never, ever have unlocked guns in my house, nor would I be comfortable with my child hanging out in the bedroom of a teenage friend with guns hanging on the wall.
I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on this one.
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